


Our Little Secret

by brianaa_c



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellarke, F/M, Mutual Pining, and bellarke kisses!!!, bellamy doesn't know her, echo who?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianaa_c/pseuds/brianaa_c
Summary: Set during 6x04. Bellamy is watching Clarke when she dances, but Clarke is also watching Bellamy. And when he storms off, she decides to follow him.





	Our Little Secret

The first thing he notices is her skin. 

Her shoulders are tanned and shimmering as if they were coated in glitter. Her cheeks are blushed and rosy, her eyelashes casting shadows on her face each time she blinks. Her chest is exposed, necklaces sliding against her skin every time she moves her hips.

And there was just... so much of it. 

Bellamy remembers all his time with Clarke. He always found her attractive; he'd be crazy not to. But he never saw her like  _this_ , outfitted in a dress that showed off strong legs and taut arms. Her sudden change of fashion choices, mixed in with the conversation they had earlier... that attraction suddenly ran deeper.

And it confused him.

Not even twelve hours ago, he was perfectly capable of accepting that his and Clarke's paths probably would never cross again, not in the way they used to. At one point, they were so intertwined, so interlaced. If he moved, she moved. They shared the same thoughts, the same ideas. His heart worked with her head like one person. He felt like he couldn't breathe without her. Maybe if they had more time,  _maybe_ if he had been more honest with her sooner, they could have been something. 

But then he lost her.

He came back with a girlfriend, and she had an adoptive child, and suddenly that closeness they once had dissipated before his eyes. They were no longer the person the other held the dearest. They were suddenly on different pages. And when Bellamy put Madi at risk by putting that  _damn_ flame in her head... he thought he lost her forever.

The conversation they had earlier made him realize he didn't. He was her family, too. Bellamy's heart flutters at the word. Her  _family_. Her family with Madi. Their family with Harper and Monty's son.  _They_ were a  _family_. A family that didn't include Echo. The selfish side of him, the greedy corner of his brain that he has tried so hard to suppress ever since he saw Clarke when they first landed on Earth, can't help but jump at that fact. He and Clarke still shared something that ran deeper than something he's ever had with anyone, deeper than something  _she_ ever had with anyone. He feels ashamed to even be thinking of her this way, especially when he has a girlfriend, but he can't tear his eyes from her as she dances with someone he doesn't recognize. He never got the opportunity to dance with her like that - to hold her like that, mostly by his own fault. Bellamy can't help the surge of jealousy that rockets through his spine, and he plants himself against the pillar behind him, crossing his arms. He never has forgotten how beautiful she was, but something about tonight... she was  _ethereal_. 

"Hey," he hears behind him, and he can't help but feel caught as he begins to turn toward the voice, even though he technically did nothing wrong. It was Echo. She was following his gaze toward Clarke, and so he steps closer to her, trying to get her to look  _anywhere_ but at Clarke and that beautiful damn dress. Watching Clarke dance with that guy has already made him irritable, and he doesn't have time to talk Echo down from anything right now. But his annoyance must have been written all over his face because her brow furrows at him. "What's wrong?"

"The last time I was at a party," he begins.  _Unity Day. Flirting. Offering Clarke a drink. Laughing._ He quickly shakes the flashback from his mind. "My sister was arrested." 

She frowns at him. "Bellamy, if you're going to tear yourself apart over leaving her, let's go get her."

The jealousy and irritability mixes and rises in his chest and she doesn't get it, she  _doesn't get it._ "No, this isn't me tearing myself apart, okay? This is me being  _human_. Feeling things when people I love are in trouble or die." He takes a breath. "The Echo I knew on the  _ring_ did that. Why don't you?"

He watches her swallow and takes in his words, and she doesn't have to say anything for him to know they both know exactly what he's talking about. That  _damn_ blue dress on the dance floor and the woman in it. She was the only thing that changed. And now that Clarke solidified their relationship status and was  _vulnerable_ with him, damnit, why couldn't his girlfriend? 

"This isn't about me," she settles on.

He wants to leave it at that, but that selfish,  _stupid_ part of him doesn't let him. "No? We lost Monty and Harper  _three_ days ago. How do you feel about that? Because I have absolutely no idea. With Clarke-"

Echo visibly stiffens at his mention of her, and instantly, he knows he's gone too far. They never needed to mention the glaring, blonde elephant in the room; they both knew it was there. They'd be lying to themselves if they pretended like it wasn't. But now he brought it up. 

And he should probably apologize, because, at the end of the day, the woman in front of him has been his  _girlfriend_ for the past six years, but he's ashamed to admit to himself he doesn't have the patience for it. So he does the only logical thing he thinks he can do. "Nevermind," he tells her with a shake of his head, making a move past her, retreating to the bar from earlier. He just... he needed to sort this out himself, away from Echo.

Clarke's eyes follow him as he makes his way toward the exit. She couldn't help the satisfaction as she watched Bellamy and Echo fight bloom in her chest, and all it does it make her head feel like she's floating. She didn't miss the way she watched him, the way his eyes followed her every move. As she danced with someone else, his gaze never once left her, and it made her feel wanted, and powerful, and  _sexy_.

She knows she should feel wrong, thinking of him in that way. Thinking of him thinking of  _her_ in that way. But she thought of him for  _so_ long when she was on Earth without him, and against better judgment, she let herself hope, only for her heart to be broken when she saw him and Echo kiss for the first time and the string of jealousy that followed in its wake. So sue her if she couldn't help but watch in satisfaction as they argued. 

Clarke watches Bellamy until he's out of view, and she tries to enjoy herself, she really does. But curiosity is gnawing at her, and she can't help but wonder if their conversation from earlier had any hand in influencing his conversation with Echo.

The curiosity eventually wins out, and she turns to the man she was dancing with, pulling him down to her so she can speak in his ear. "I have to go," she tells him, just above the music. "I'm sorry, I think one of my friends need me."

The man holds on to her longer than he probably should have, but eventually, he releases her, and she starts on her treck to find Bellamy. Her heart is erratic in her chest as she makes her way to the bar they had their conversation in. She couldn't shake the idea that he would be there. Even after six years apart, she still felt like she knew him like the back of her hand. What will he say to her when he sees her? Will he want her there at all? She felt a more intimate shift in their relationship earlier, so she can only hope he would. And will he be alone?

She doesn't have to wait long for her questions to be answered, because when she pushes the door open, he's sitting by the bar, hunched over what she imagines is a glass of  _something_ alcoholic. But he doesn't move, doesn't so much as _flinch_ as she makes enough noise for him to know she's there, and so he must know it's her. Her feet have minds of their own as she makes her way to him across the room, stopping just short of touching him. She watches him raise the glass in his hand and examine it, his back still to her.

"You know," he starts, his voice even. "When we went on that mission with Roan all those years ago to try and keep the arc before we went to space, I thought you were dead." 

She blinks. "What do you mean?"

Bellamy lets out a sigh, drinking whatever was remaining in the cup before putting it back down and pushing it away from him, leaning forward on his elbows on the bar. "When we got separated. You wouldn't answer my radio calls. And we saw a body covered in tarp and I was convinced it was you." He took a deep breath, dropping his head. "I thought it was you."

Clarke steps next to him then, and she can't help but notice the way her hairs stand up on her arms, the way her heart beats faster. This conversation is different than all the ones they've had before. "Why are you telling me this?" 

He lets out a flat chuckle, and he picks his head back up, running his hands over his face. "I was going to tell you I loved you," he finally says, staring straight ahead in front of him, never at her. "Thinking you were dead and then finding out you weren't made me want to finally tell you." 

Her heart is in her throat. She can't breathe. She feels like she's on autopilot as she reaches forward, her fingers meeting the cool wood of the bar in front of her, moving closer. What does she say? What does he want her to say? What  _should_ she say? "Why didn't you?" She settles on.

Bellamy looks at her then. His eyes are intense and serious and she swears her heart is beating so loud he's able to hear it. "You didn't let me. And then we lost the arc and had the conclave and-," he cuts himself off, clenching his jaw.  _And then I pointed a gun at you,_ she thinks. "Bottom line is, I didn't. And I should have." 

She feels like she's going to pass out at his confession, but she forces herself to keep it light. She narrows her eyes at him. "Are you drunk?" She asks. Clarke means to sound playful and light, but her voice shakes and he notices.

"What? No." He sits up straighter, turning his body to face her completely. Her cheeks are flushed, but he doesn't allow himself to think that maybe, he was the one that made her react that way. "It's just..." he runs a hand through his messy hair, and she briefly finds herself wishing that was her own hand. "Our conversation earlier. It made me realize I haven't been completely honest with you for so  _long_. I realized I loved you when you came back to Arkadia after what I did to the grounders. But I was a coward and I was  _angry_ and I wasn't allowing myself to admit it. And when I finally was going to stop being a coward and _do something_ about it, it was too late."

Clarke swallows. This can't be real. She has to be dreaming. Bellamy loved her. He  _loved_ her. She had six years to reflect and think about what she wanted. But when she realized she wanted  _him_ , he came back in a relationship. A relationship she didn't understand, considering what all Echo did to her over the months she knew her. But when they came back, she felt like she had to walk around everyone on eggshells, and so she kept her mouth shut and her head down. "I have to ask," she starts, stepping closer. Her shoulder brushes his, and her body is lit on fire. "Do you still? Love me?"

That question seems to take him off guard, probably more than it should. He should have known she'd ask. It's only fair, considering the bomb he just dropped on her. He gives her a side glance, her eyes wide and vulnerable. Like if he gives her the wrong answer, she just might break. And he  _wants_ to answer her, but he knows that if he does, he crosses a line he never should be crossing. His relationship with Clarke already had Echo on edge, and if he confirms what Clarke wants to know, he's painfully aware that he can never go back.

She's afraid to touch him. "Bellamy," she says, and her voice is so soft, he can't deny her anything, he could never deny her anything.

"Of course I do," he tells her as he looks at her, and he's whispering, why is he  _whispering?_ They're the only two in here. "When I found out you were still alive," he says, taking a deep breath when she steps into his personal space. His fingers itch to pull her closer, but he's not sure she'd allow him. "It was one of the happiest days of my life. I got you back when I thought I lost you forever." 

She starts to smile, but something stops her. "But you don't have _me_." 

He doesn't have an answer to that, and his gaze falls from hers completely. He's still very much infatuated with Echo. But those feelings for Clarke never left, and having her back only allowed him to explore said feelings even more. Part of him wonders if he knew Clarke was still alive, would he ever get together with Echo? And the other part of him doesn't let himself answer his own question, because he already knows the answer to it. "I wanted to," he tells her truthfully, his heart in his throat. "But I thought you were dead, Clarke. I had to move on." 

Her bottom lip twitches and  _fuck,_ he didn't mean to do that. Clarke begins to turn away from him, probably because of the rejection she felt, but he finally stands, moving away from the bar and toward her. He gathers up enough courage to finally reach out and  _touch_ her, reaching up to her cheek, brushing the hair out of her face with a featherlight touch. Clarke lets out a hum and she doesn't realize she's leaning into his touch until he's pulling away from her. She's suddenly eighteen and he's comforting her before the planned on going to the ring in space. It was so much simpler back then. But they're adults now, and they should know better than to be having this conversation when Bellamy is in a long-term relationship, but she can't bring herself to give a damn. 

She shuffles closer, and the hand that was in her hair goes to rest on her shoulder. "Did you?" She asks him. She takes a deep breath in before reaching out to grab his jacket. Ever since they hugged, she wants to do nothing but continue to touch him. "Did you move on?"

Bellamy is all too willing, allowing her to pull him forward. "Of course not," he confesses. "No matter what I did... I couldn't shake you." 

Since she's going to hell anyway, she saw no problem in pulling him into her, tilting her head up for their first kiss. She didn't want him to have the guilt of making the first move.

Clarke feels herself melt against him. It's as good as she imagined it. Better, even. He exhales against her, the hand on her shoulder sliding up, stopping briefly at her neck before continuing to her hair, cradling the back of her head as he kisses her. His lips against hers are softer than she would have thought, but all she can focus on is the fireworks exploding behind her eyes, her hands electrified as she lets go of his jacket. Clarke reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

When he breaks away from her, she's fully convinced he's going to tell her that their kiss was a mistake; that it shouldn't have happened. The immediate look he gives her more or less told her. And Bellamy thinks it, almost  _says_ it, but his desire for the woman in front of him finally being fulfilled entirely outweighs his instinct to do the right thing. And so he does the only thing he can do and slips out of his jacket, discarding it on a barstool before pressing her back into the bar, bringing his lips back to hers once more. 

She can't help but let out a tiny whimper from deep within her throat, her hands going to his shoulders as he cups her face in his hands, running forward to grip his arms. Arms that made her feel safest. Arms she hasn't felt in six years.

He runs his tongue along her lips before slipping inside her mouth, and briefly, she wonders if this is how he kisses Echo, or if this is something saved just for her. And she  _almost_ feels guilty for pushing him back onto his bar seat, but they've always belonged to each other,  _this is how it's supposed to be_.

Bellamy breaks from her with a sharp breath as he sits back down, his mind not quite catching up with their actions. He lifts his arms when Clarke pulls at his t-shirt, and she lets it fall carelessly to the floor. His brain stalls when her hands go to the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth movement. He only stares up at her in awe when she lowers herself down on him, straddling him on the seat. His hands have minds of their own as they go running up her thighs. Was he really going to do this?

"I've waited six years for this," she tells him breathlessly, running her hands through his hair possessively. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Hell yes, he was going to do this.

A hand leaves her thigh to go to her neck, pulling her back in with a searing kiss. Clarke melts against him, shivering with glee when he reaches around her to undo her bra clasp, letting it coast down her arms before she discards it by her dress. Her hands shake in anticipation as they go to his pants, undoing the button and the zipper. Her head feels like it's swimming, overwhelmed with his touch and his kisses as he hugs her to him, reaching down to inch her panties down. With shortened breath, she parts from him briefly, giving her just enough time to step out of them before returning to his lap. They're both a bit frenzied when they reach down to pull his pants and underwear down to his knees, letting gravity take them to his ankles.

She can't breathe. This feels like an out-of-body experience, like she's watching someone else do what they're doing. But she's  _excited_ , and she was being honest earlier; she couldn't stop thinking about him. Couldn't stop thinking about what  _this_ would be like. Bellamy grasps her hips and pulls her closer, swearing under his breath, all gravel and restrained groans as she  _finally_ sinks down on him. Her mind goes blank at once as she leans forward, gripping his shoulders tightly.

Then, everything comes back and hits her hard, and she presses her forehead into the groove between his shoulder and neck, letting out a moan into his hot skin as he begins to move her hips on top of him. He grips her tighter, letting his head fall back with a groan. Her mouth takes advantage of the newly exposed skin, kissing and biting at his neck hard enough to leave bruises. The primal part of her deep inside hope that she does.

"Every day," she says in a shaky voice against his skin as she kisses him, rocking his hips in time with his thrusts up into her. "Every goddamn day, I thought of you. And how much I wished we've done this sooner." 

Bellamy's breaths are too shallow; he can't get enough oxygen. He feels like he's intoxicated or on some sort of high when her nails dig into his shoulders. He wants to say something back, something that mirrors her sentiment, but he can't get words to form in his throat. All he can do is moan, helping her hips rise and fall, rocking back and forth on him. He always thought he'd end up in hell, but this? This is heaven. Or at least, as close to heaven as he's ever going to get.

"I never want to be separated again," she continues, moving back to his lips. He kisses her greedily, swallowing her moans, lapping up her sighs of pleasure. "I couldn't bear it," she breathes into his mouth.

Her lips fall from his when his thrusts grow faster, and she lets out a curse. "I'm never letting you go," he agrees breathlessly, leaning forward to bury his face in the crook of her neck, hugging her to him so tightly, she can't breathe. Why the hell didn't they do this sooner? 

Clarke's thighs are screaming at her but she continues on, rocking herself back and forth, gasping in his arms when he nips at her shoulder. They're both sweating at this point, his breath hot on her skin as her hands tangle in his hair when the knot in her stomach grows unbearably tight. She suddenly feels so possessive of him. He's  _hers_. He's always been hers. Hers, hers, hers.

One more tip of her hips forward, and everything around her absolutely shatters. She finishes with a high-pitched whine, pulling on his hair so hard, he lets out a hiss. But his thrusts are still unrelenting, guiding her through her orgasm as he nears his own. Frenzied, he pulls her lips  _finally_ back to his and kisses her hard, and all it takes is a few more thrusts and a few more of Clarke's moans before he's following her orgasm. He sees stars as he forces himself to open his eyes and stare at her flushed cheeks and bruised lips, and he's gone, gone, gone.

Where did he go?

She slumps forward onto his chest, and his arms circle around her, holding her tight. He wasn't ready to let her go, and he was thankful she seemingly felt the same way. He breathes into his hair as he draws shapes on her lower back with his fingers, her arms circling around his neck.

Finally, their breathing eventually returns to normal, but Clarke doesn't dare move an inch away from him, allowing her eyes to flutter closed. "Why didn't we ever do that sooner?"

Bellamy can't help but chuckle. "Fate didn't allow it, I guess." 

They stay like that a little bit longer, enjoying each other's touch. Clarke takes a deep breath in, letting herself relax against his chest as he runs his hands through her hair.  _This_ is what she needed, all these years. Him. His touch. His loves. She missed him so fucking much. 

Reluctantly, he lets her move away once she lifts herself off of him. She reaches to the ground to grab her undergarments and dress, watching him as they both dress. She's kicking herself for not realizing her feelings sooner. The way his muscles shift under his skin when he stands to slip his henley back on... she could watch him all day. And she can't help but give him a soft smile when an arm winds around her waist. It wasn't just sex, it was  _always_ going to be more than just sex.

But, still, she had to ask. "What now?" Clarke asks, swallowing, hoping he knew what she meant. She didn't want to have to say her name, especially after what they just did.

Bellamy reaches up to push his hair back with his free hand, his other arm remaining tightly around the woman in front of him. "The only option is to break up with her," he finally decides on, unable to say her name, too. "I think that's only fair." 

Clarke chews on the inside of her cheek. "Only fair," she repeats, trying not to feel like a total piece of shit for sleeping with someone else's boyfriend, no matter how much of a bitch she was, no matter who the boyfriend in question is. "I should probably get back to the party," she continues, reaching forward to play with the buttons on his henley. "Do you want me to find you after?" She pauses. "We should probably talk.  _With_ our clothes on this time."

The corners of his lips tick upward. "No, I'll find you," he decides, leaning in to kiss her cheek, letting her out of his grip. His hands already itch to pull her back. "I'm... not sure how long it'll take." 

She nods at his words, giving him one last look before moving around him, heading for the door. He leans against the bar and watches her leave, pausing when she reaches the door, turning to look back at him.

"Bellamy..." she starts, trying to choose her words carefully. Echo had the ability to kill people without remorse due to Azgeda training. Bellamy had said countless times that she changed, but if she knew... "You aren't going to tell her about  _this_ , will you?"

He shakes his head instantly, and he knows he should be feeling like the worst person on the face of the Earth right now, but he can't help the way his lips turn up as her eyes shine back at him.

"It'll be our secret." 


End file.
